Getting Away With Murder
by addicted2airwolf
Summary: story 10. While Hawke is still battling demons of the past, Archangel is visited by an interesting intruder at the FIRM who claims to know Lexa. Which brings up the question, where is Lexa?
1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

Tires squealed as a red Corvette came barreling down the street, narrowly missing an expensive sports coupe as it continued down the road then skidded around a corner. Six police cars, lights flashing and sirens blaring, followed in pursuit. Leaving the residential area, the leading car disappeared into a tunnel ten minutes later. The police helicopter continued to hover over the tunnel in await for the Corvette, but it never reappeared. The patrol cars also entered the tunnel, but failed to exit the other side without their objective.

"You still watching that?" String asked his surrogate father as he reached for his jacket. "You know, we closed an hour ago." The weather's supposed to get pretty nasty tonight too. If you don't get going soon you're likely to get snowed in," he teased.

Dom wasn't likely to get snowed it anytime soon, but he personally didn't see much point in watching an idiot run from the cops until he ran out of gas or finally gave up. He, on the other hand, needed to get a move on before the visibility decreased any more. Landing on the dock with thirty mile an hour gusts wasn't the most fun.

"Alright, I"m going," Dom replied, clicking the tv set off. "Whoever it was probably gave up inside the tunnel anyway, that or finally ran into another vehicle. They've had so many near misses in the last two hours I'm amazed they haven't hit anything before now." He picked up the keys then reached for his own coat. "You gonna be alright flying out there tonight?

"Made it this morning."

"I know, but if you wanted to wait more than two days it wouldn't be a bad thing and I don't mind."

"I know, and I appreciate it, but I'll be okay."

"See you in the morning then. Assuming the weather is good enough. I don't want you or that bird out tomorrow if the weather is bad."

"I understand," he answered, feeling like he was a kid again getting his first flight lessons. "Goodnight, Dom."

\A/

_"What did you expect? You should know better than to come back. Now I finished what I should have years ago. Piece by piece."_

_ What was he supposed to say to that? He tried to think about something else, but the only hing he could think of was being an eighteen year old kid stuck with this psycho and hurting more than he had ever before and knowing his chances of surviving or getting away were getting smaller every day. He was older now and that psycho now spoke a little English, those were the only differences._

_ Another angry fist landed in his midsection and he could almost hear his ribs cracking._

_ "I say answer me! Why return?"_

_ "I just wanted to come back and see how some of my old friends were," he __mocked sarcastically, knowing it would earn him another blow. He just hoped it would hard enough to knock him out and end the pain._

_Nguyen van Long delivered a fierce blow across the back of his head, one that would hurt plenty when he woke up, but finally everything faded into a painless darkness._

He was only half awake, but his head was already pounding and his ribs hurt even more. At some point during his restless tossing and turning he had rolled over onto his stomach, something he needed to remedy **immediately**.

As he started to ease back over the other way he realized it was going to get worse before it got better. It wasn't going to get better where he was though, so he figured he would just get it over with. He let out an unsuppressed groan of pain as he rolled over and struggled out of the bed. Now he just had to make it down the stairs and to the kitchen. Joy... Sighing, he picked up his pillow and tucked it under his arm. He wasn't coming back up here tonight, that much was for sure.

\A/

The next morning he was still trying to decide whether or not going up to the hangar was a good idea, but when he stepped outside he realized the decision had already been made for him.

A heavy blanket of fresh snow covered the ground and more continued to fall, covering every imaginable surface. The soft white blanket made a picture-perfect scene, but was hardly decent flying weather especially if he wasn't at his best. Dom wouldn't want him flying in with the possibility of it getting worse at any minute, and he wasn't going to argue today.

He retreated back into the warmth of the cabin and threw another log on the fire. Selecting a book off the bookcase, he sat in the chair closest to the hearth, Tet lying at his feet. He reached down the scratch the dog's head, but couldn't find the setting as perfect as he had hoped. He wanted to get back to work at the hangar, wanted to have Le back with him as originally planned, wanted someone to talk to.

Typically he could spend days, if not weeks, alone at the cabin and be perfectly content, but since his latest excursion things had been different.

The dreaded nightmares resurfaced, and he never seemed to be at ease when he was on his own. He constantly felt like he needed to be on the move and whenever possible take backup with hi, He wouldn't sit near the windows or doors and lately his .45 rarely left his side. Quite frankly, it scared him.

He tried to blame it on the medicine or Long's mistreatment, but he had only been with him for a few hours. He feared it was more of a combination of old memories and Long's threat to return. Whatever the cause, he needed to shake it; it wasn't good for him to constantly be worried about it, and he needed to rest and recuperate so he would be ready if Long did resurface.

He continued to sit in the chair tapping his foot tensely, watching as if someone was about to break in at any moment. He hadn't slept well for the last two days because of this restless paranoia, and the less he slept the worse it got. He really needed to do something about this unresolved matter. But what? Why couldn't all the missions be cut and dry – take Airwolf, blow up the baddie, go home?

Suddenly an even more disconcerting thought occurred to him. According to Lexa, that's all there was. She didn't believe all the other details were important, including how or why she did the things she did. It was just do it and get it done. And he had accused her of being the crazy one! At least she was willing to own up to it.

One way or another, this had to go away. He picked up the unopened prescription bottle of Sonata. He wasn't a big fan of medicine of any kind, sleeping pills even less so, but if it would take away this problem it had to be worth it.

He took one pill with a glass of water and started back up the stairs to the loft. He was going to get a good eight hours of uninterrupted sleep and move past this. At least he hoped that was all he needed.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

"Sir," Michael's assistant said, " we need your help with something."

"What?" he demanded, exasperated. He had stayed late working and as a reward gotten stuck due to a large storm that had moved in sooner than predicted. Since then, the power had gone off twice and half the security systems all decided to go haywire at the same time. Due to the continuing alarms and frustration he now had a pounding headache and wanted nothing more than to be home alone.

"We have a security breach."

"A real one this time?" he questioned cynically.

"An unauthorized person entered the building and was headed toward this end of the building."

"Security has caught this person, I assume?"

"Yes, sir. She says she wants to speak with you."

"Why can't you just turn her over to the local police with a charge of trespassing on government property like any other person?"

"She threatened to blow up ever car in the parking garage," the assistant explained, " the bomb squad is checking out the validity of this threat now."

"You act like there is more. Is there something else I should know?"

"She's seven."

"Seven? As in seven years old?"

The white-clad agent nodded.

"You have two college degrees, and you can't handle a seven year old girl?"

"Sorry, sir. It's just that it's not your typical-"

"Just send her in here," he cut her off. "I'll handle it myself."

"Yes, sir." She hastily disappeared beyond the office's double doors, only to be seen again briefly five minutes later when she escorted the girl in.

Michael eyed the innocent looking blond-haired blue-eyed girl critically. She had on a pink romper and shiny silver heels far higher than he knew they made for children her age. She looked completely inappropriately dressed for the weather outside, but otherwise there didn't appear to be anything different about her than any other average kid.

"My name is Michael. What's yours?"

"I already knew yours, but I'm Nikita. Or you can just call me Niki if you want."

"Alright, Nikita, what were you-"

"Archangel," another person interrupted as he walked in the door.

"I evidently have an open door policy today, so feel free."

"I just thought that I would tell you five of the cars in the garage did have remote detonated C-4 explosives wired to them. They've been disarmed though and are being taken to the weapons bunker."

"Thank you."

He waited for the door to close again before looking at Nikita.

"Did you do that?"

She nodded, looking proud of herself.

"Do you know you could go to jail for that?"

Again, she nodded.

"Then why did you do it?"

"So you'd believe me. Not too many grown ups take a seven year old serious. You couldn't really send me to jail anyway."

"How are you so sure about that?"

"Cause Mommy'd start hurting people if you did."

"Is she the one who taught you how to do that?"

"Yep."

Someone really needed to work on their parenting. Who in there right mind would teach a first grader to wire explosives? he wondered.

"Who exactly is your mommy?"

"My real mommy's name was Katya Zykov, but she died with my dad in a big car crash. Now my mommy is actually my sister, but she said to tell everyone she is my mommy because it's less complicated that way."

"Who is your sister then?"

"Her name is Lexa."

"And Lexa taught you how to wire the explosives?"

"Yep."

Figures. He would definitely have to talk to her when she got back.

"So why is it you're here?"

Nikita shrugged, climbing into the chair in front of his desk. "I dunno. She said that if she wasn't back by this morning to stay here with a guy named Michael until she did in case something bad happened."

"She probably just got stuck in the weather. Where were you staying before you came here?"

"At home."

"She left you alone?"

"Yep. She does that a lot, but it's okay cause I can take care of myself and I ride the bus to school so nobody has to drive me."

"How did you get here?"

"I walked."

"Weren't you cold? It's freezing out there and you wearing-"

"I wanted to wear this so I did," she answered defiantly.

"Alright, alright. You live close by?"

"Yep. In an apartment two buildings away."

"Okay. I'm going to get my jacket and then we can drive over there if you'll show me which one it is."

"We aren't staying here?"

"No. Would it make you feel better if I took someone with us for protection?"

She shook her head. "If a bad guy comes you can just shoot 'em."

"Shoot them?"

"Yeah, with Mommy's gun."

"It's not within your reach is it?" he asked, almost afraid to know the answer.

"Which one?"

"Any of them."

"I can't reach the one at the top of her closet or the cabinet without standing on something, but I can reach the ones on the counter and the one in the living room. She also has a big one in her bedroom that leans again the wall,but she said I can't touch that one 'til I'm bigger."

He was definitely going to have a nice long talk with her.

"Have you had any bad guys at your house recently?"

She shook her head, shoulder length blond tresses falling in front of her eyes.

"Good. Let's go then."

Nikita agreed, sliding out of the oversized chair.

Michael followed, although not before tucking his side arm into his waistband, just in case.

Nikita skipped down the hallway then proceeded to press every button in the elevator, making him glad there were only four floors in the building. Outwardly she seemed like an ordinary seven year old girl, but with every step closer to Lexa's apartment he grew more afraid of what wasn't outwardly visible. Lexa Cole was a highly efficient agent, and very good at what she did, but her methods, including her parenting ones evidently, were often...unorthodox. Usually he tried to ignore that and tell himself that it was the end result that mattered. The idea of her acting as a mother to any child, ever her sister, quite frankly terrified him. Keeping a collection of weapons, although many of them illegal, was one thing, leaving them within the reach of a little kid though was entirely different.

Another question plagued his mind. How had he missed it? He should have known something about Nikita before she showed up in his office, even if it was only a name listed as a relative. How long had Lexa been guardian of this child? And perhaps more importantly, how much had she taught her? Nikita already proved to be very intelligent for her age, but he still wasn't so sure it was a good idea to teach even a responsible seven year old to wire explosives.

"It's here," the girl announced, and the car pulled to a stop outside the apartment complex.

For better or for worse, he was involved now in whatever mess Lexa had created, and it was up to him to clean it up.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

At first glance it looked like a typical two bedroom, not much unnecessary furniture, but it did look lived in. Upon deeper inspection he realized Lexa's personal and professional life were as inseparably entangled as had been rumored. Informational and 'how to' books on about every gun thinkable were piled on a simple black bookcase as well as a few easier to read mystery novels. The end table next to the sofa had bottles of every color of nail polish from black to orange on it, and from the looks of the floor and surrounding furniture every one of those colors had been used at least once. There was also a china cabinet sitting against the brightly painted wall, but it looked as if it had never seen any use other than to have a gun leaned against it.

Nikita seemed as at home as anyone could though, completely unfazed by her older sister's unusual decorations. Pushing a chair against the cabinet, he grimaced as the metal chair scraped against the dark wood. Nikita didn't seem to notice, instead climbing up on the counter past the 9mm laying on the counter and reaching into the cabinet for a cup. Once the glass was in hand, she expertly jumped off the counter-top and moved on to the fridge which contained a well-stocked supply of juice and snacks a seven year old could easily fix.

"What do you wanna do?" she asked once halfway through the apple juice she had poured.

He wanted to find out more about Lexa and the kid she had mysteriously acquired; he wanted to have more time to watch Nikita and find out a little more about their daily life. After all, this was a rare glimpse into the agent that had plenty of rumors but few confirmed facts known about her.

He couldn't exactly tell her that though.

"I don't know. What do you want to do?"

She thought for a minute before answering.

"I wanna watch a movie."

"Alright," he agreed, vaguely disappointed. It would give him a chance to see what kind of things Lexa watched at least. And what she let her sister watch.

"Go pick your favorite movie then."

She ran down the hall and disappeared before he had a chance to see where she had run off to. A couple minutes later she returned with one in each hand.

"These are my favorites. You pick."

The _Fox and the Hound_ and _Rambo_. That explained a lot.

\A/

It was late afternoon by the time Hawke woke again, this time feeling much better after a solid eight hours of sleep.

Making his way to the window, he could see the weather was clearing up, opening the option of flying back into town if he was up to it later. The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. If the weather would hold, he could fly back to Van Nuys in time for dinner then bring Saint John and Le back to the cabin before it got too late.

Settled on the idea, he went to find a sweater.

Five minutes later he was lifting off the dock for town. As he neared the hangar he saw the snow hadn't fallen as heavily as it had at the cabin, but all the same many stores were closed and few people braved the unusual weather, making the city seem strangely quiet.

He landed on the tarmac outside the hangar and was unsurprised to the it empty. There wasn't much point opening a charter and movie stunt business when most people didn't want to be out in the weather. Maybe coming out today hadn't been the best idea after all. He was here now though, so he thought he might as well make the most of it.

\A/

"Sure, I'd be willing to get dinner with you," Dom agreed. "I can't fix anything decent here anyway with the power out. We'll just have to make sure the restaurant has electricity before we sit down and order," he continued with a hearty laugh. "How were things at the cabin?"

"Worse than here, but at least I have electricity."

"Yeah, you and that fancy generator," Dom grumbled. "You'd best watch out or you're likely to have this whole side of Los Angeles decide to stay with you tonight."

"They have to get out here first," String retorted, "but you know you're always welcome."

"I'll tough it out tonight. Power is supposed to be back by tomorrow if the electrical company is to be believed. If not, you might just have a little company. I'll get off the phone and find Le though; we should be over to pick you up in a couple minutes."

\A/

**2 Hours Later**

"You sure you don't want another round?" Dominic offered as he let out yawn and patted his belly. "I'm buying." Truthfully, he knew he had already eaten more than his fair share, but it was too good to resist. The seemingly last place in town with electricity had been a nondescript crab house he hadn't been to in years, but when inevitability caught up with them and it too lost power, the manager had declared everything half price, knowing that if they didn't regain electricity soon most of the fresh seafood would go bad anyway. In response, he had eaten twice as much.

Hawke shook his head, unable to eat another bite.

"What about you, Le?"

Even Le, who they had found out could put away enormous amounts of food on occasion, declined.

"I guess it's time to pay our bill and roll on out of here," he concluded with a hearty laugh, "that is, if the jeep can still hold us all."

Even String chuckled, but the smile quickly disappeared as abruptly as it had appeared.

"What is it?" Dom asked as he sensed the sudden change of mood.

"Behind you," he replied, giving no further explanation.

Grumbling about how much he had overeaten, the older man turned to see Archangel brushing past the hostess offering to seat him.

"And it doesn't look like he came to join us for dinner,"

"Hawke," he called, still several strides away. "I need to talk to you now."

"What happened to Mr. Diplomatic?"

"I'm afraid there isn't time for superfluous formalities. I need to speak _privately_ with you_._

"There's only one other group here," Dom pointed out. "It's about as private as it's gonna get unless _you_ want to drive us all the way out to Knightsbridge.

"Fine," he agreed, although not completely satisfied with the arrangement. Time was of the essence now that he had let things get so out of hand.

"Marella is out in the car right now with a seven year old girl who claims Lexa Cole is her sister, and guardian."

"That's a scary prospect. Do you have anything to substantiate that claim?"

"I have nothing. That's the scariest part. Lexa took some personal time a week ago and evidently was supposed to have returned by this morning. Her plane ticket was only to Quebec, but knowing her, she could have gone anywhere from there. Then, this evening a seven year old kid showed up at my office claiming Lexa told her to go there if she hadn't returned by this morning.

"But you have no way of telling if she's who she says she is?"

"Any of Lexa's relatives or close associates should be in the computer, but no one had any idea this kid existed. Lexa's father died years ago and her mother when she was little. I would have thought a sister would have come up in a conversation somewhere, but...

"But what?"

"If I had to guess, I would say she's telling the truth, at least about the guardian part. She's very intelligent, knows a little too much about explosives, and her story fits; she even took me to Lexa's apartment. She has to be Lexa's sister... that or her daughter."

"Great. So a field operative that's borderline crazy now is the guardian of a young child that might or might not be hers while she is off doing who knows what? How does someone like her even get custody of a child? Her job... the danger and the fact she could be called to go anywhere in the world at a moment's notice... If nothing else, he driving should keep her from being able to. She probably has tickets in languages I didn't even know existed."

"I don't know how she did it, just that she did. Our fear now is that she's gone rouge."

"Out of hand is an understatement."

"It's not confirmed yet, but I don't want to waste any more time. She made the plane to Canada, but customs has no record of her ever entering the country; she never left the plane according to their records. She's just gone."

"Lexa has dropped off the radar and she left behind a kid, that's a new one for even her. Most people try to take their family with them," Hawke commented.

"But she did see to it Nikita would be looked after," Michael countered. "She knew I'd have to do something."

"Or maybe she knew the kid would spend some time at the FIRM and hoped you would want to keep her around, maybe once she was older throw in a little special training..."

"It's all a hunch though, and I need something conclusive or the Committee, understandably, will have my butt."

"I wouldn't expect anything less. What exactly is it I'm supposed to do about it though?"

"The impossible. I want you to find her."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"How exactly do you expect us to find her?" Dominic queried.

"Fly over in Airwolf, make wanted posters, I don't care. Do whatever you would if it were anyone else missing. I'd personally volunteer to go with you, but I'll be putting all my resources into the effort at the FIRM trying to keep the Committee from sticking their noses in where they don't belong. And believe me, they'll be plenty anxious to do just that when they find out about my latest screw up."

\A/

It was quiet again, but Lexa knew the silence wouldn't last for long, at last not while she had two very hot full automatics in the passenger seat of a stolen Corvette. After what seemed like an endless chase, she had finally evaded the police, but she was painfully aware of how much more difficult it was than usual, and how exhausted she already was. One thing was obvious though, she wasn't going to be able to make it over the border back into the Us without some much needed shut eye. That meant she was another day late.

Listening to the fading whine of sirens in the distant, she let her thoughts drift back to Los Angeles. Niki had probably already found Michael and, if she knew him as well as she thought she did, he'd already have extra security and a search party looking for her. And if the Committee found out she was missing... Getting back to the states would be the least of her problems.

Hiding the guns inside an oversized duffel bag, she left the sports car in the ally in search of somewhere to sleep.

\A/

**Airwolf**

** The Following Day**

"Hawke, come in. It's Michael."

"We read you. I'm just hoping you have some news."

"I do. It looks like Lexa might not have left Canada after all. A drug store clerk in Vancouver gave a description of one her customers that matched Lexa's and not much later a stolen '87 Corvette was found a block away. Corvettes, specifically red ones, which this one was, seem to be her car of choice."

"So you can go pick her up now and we can go home, right?"

"Unfortunately, no."

"Why not?"

"I already sent a team in; she's gone. The car was wiped so we can't make any certain identifications, but I know it was her."

"I can't take Airwolf all over Canada without some clearance. It's not like sneaking under the radar for an hour or two; I'd have to make slow, low flights over the cities," Hawke reminded, " and Airwolf would be on display for anyone who decided to look up."

"I know," he replied. "Bring Airwolf in, we'll have to handle this with their government and hope Lexa doesn't have someone on the inside. I'll keep you in the loop, assuming I don't get fired."

"We appreciate that. I think."

"We'll see. Archangel, out."

"Why do I get the feeling we're just the extra piece in this puzzle?" Dominic remarked.

"Because we are. I think he just wanted someone out there physically looking and we got to be the lucky ones. What I'm trying to figure out is where the kid fits in."

"The kid? What's she got to do with finding Lexa?"

"At least from the time I knew her, Lexa wasn't too find of kids, tried not to harm them, but I definitely can't see her having one or trying to get custody of one. It's just not like her."

"If you remember, she abandoned Nikita here while she decided to tour the world on her own."

The disapproving tone in his voice was obvious, but Hawke wasn't so sure he agreed. He didn't approve of abandonment, but in the long run it was probably in Nikita's best interest not to be with Lexa. The way things were left, it seemed like she was planning on returning though. Maybe she hadn't gone rogue... If not though, why hadn't she shown up, or at least told someone where she was? Lexa going rogue seemed like the perfect explanation to him; it would have made him feel more justified in the negative remarks and thoughts of hatred he'd had over the years, proof that she really wasn't the angel everyone else believed her to be. If she hadn't turned though, maybe that was just proving everyone else's belief and it was just him who couldn't get along with her.

\A/

The Volvo continued gaining speed as she pressed harder on the accelerator. Thankfully, the road ahead was clear and she planned to break through the barrier before they knew what hit them. Or at least as close to it as she could get. It didn't take much intelligence to know she'd have cops and border patrol after her in no time, so she planned to break through and ditch the car as soon as possible for something faster.

The uniformed personnel signaling for her to slow down scrambled out of the way as he realized she had no plans to do so. The guard rail broke easily as the front end of the car plowed through, continuing down the road at full speed. Shots fired and a siren sounded behind her, but she ignored them, intent on finding the nearest neighborhood, parking lot, or anywhere else suitable to dump the car and pick up another one.

Briefly glancing backward, Lexa was pleased to find the perusing cars dropping behind. As she turned back to the road in front of her she realized a second too late that the oncoming vehicle was in the same line as her, and not stopping.

The abrupt stop as the two cars collided stole her breath as the momentum slammed her forward into the deploying airbag, the terrible screech of metal scraping metal and shattering glass filling the air, and an instant later darkness claimed her.

She started to regain consciousness, but she wasn't sure how much later. The sound of approaching ambulances told her it had been a few minutes, but not too long. Unfortunately, if she didn't want her next stop to be the prison infirmary she needed to be gone before they showed up. Summoning any bits of remaining strength, she sat up, pushing aside the deflated airbag, and endeavored to untangle herself from the tight hold of the seat belt. It wasn't until then that she really realized how difficult her task was going to be.

The sirens blaring as they approached only increased the intensity of the pain in her head, prodding her to move on before they came any closer. Pushing and tugging on the semi-crushed door for a minute, it finally swung open, and Lexa stumbled out and fell to the ground. Every muscle and bone in her body felt like it had been split in half, and blood ran freely from the gash on her forehead and arm where pieces of the shattered windshield had rained on her.

Slowly pushing back to her feet, she staggered forward a few steps, wincing every time she put any weight on her right ankle, or for that matter, moved at all. Ignoring it as much as she could, she set out for the side of the road, looking for somewhere she could hide until some of the excitement blew over.


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5**

By the time Airwolf was safely hidden in the Lair and the jeep pulled up at Santini Air, it was quite late and Dominic knew he wasn't the only one exhausted. He was about to offer String and Le to stay at his place for the night so they didn't have the longer commute before they made it home when the phone started ringing. He ignored it, knowing he would be able to deal with potential customers better after a few hours sleep. Besides, that was what answering machines were for. What surprised him was Hawke walking toward the continuing ringing. Typically he was the one that got more irritated by the after-hours phone calls, grumbling if he had to answer one twenty minutes late, much less five hours.

"String, don't worry about it. We can get it in the morning."

"I'll just be a minute," he replied, reaching for the receiver, "you can go ahead home if you want."

So much for spending the night in town, he thought to himself, seriously considering leaving. Finally curiosity got the better of him though, and he decided to stay long enough to find out who was calling and why in the middle of the night.

A few minutes later he heard Hawke hang up the phone only to have it start ringing again almost instantly. The time the call was more brief, and Hawke returned shortly.

"Are we open twenty-four hours a day now?"

"Evidently."

"So?" he pried. "Who was it?"

"It was Lexa."

"What about the second one?"

"Wrong number."

"Oh." That hadn't been exactly what he was expecting so he returned to the first question. "Is she ready to turn herself in, or did she just call to send a few threats our way?"

"She wants me to pick her up."

"So you know where she is? We can call the FIRM and finally get this mess cleaned up."

"No."

"What'd'ya mean no? Earlier you were as excited as anyone to catch her, and now-"

"I don't know where she is, a payphone somewhere near the Canadian border is my best guess."

"How are you supposed to pick her up if you don't know where she is? And why would she call you and not expect FIRM? If she's half as smart as you said, she'll know you aren't stupid enough to fly hundreds of miles away by yourself in the middle of the night..."

"No, actually I was planning in driving."

"String!"

"She gave me the address of a gas station in Washington near the border, and I'm supposed to meet her there tomorrow night. That way I have time to get a couple hours sleep and she has time to actually get there."

The older man sighed, still not too keen on the idea. "I still don't like it, but at least let me come with you. Or, better yet, sleep eight hours and fly up there. It takes half as long and we don't have any jobs lined up anyway."

"I'd have to file a flight plan, and the less paperwork tying you and the business to this the better. If you'll watch Le, I can be back in two days and everything will be back to normal. In the end, I think that's what we all want."

\A/

A nondescript blue jeep pulled into the parking lot across the street and a slight smile crept across Lexa's face as she recognized the man climbing out of it.

Once there was a lag in the traffic, she started across the road, not having been so glad to see him in years. His back was turned to her, but she would have thought he would have heard her approaching, especially with her currently uneven gait, but there was no mistaking the startled look on his face as her hand touched his shoulder.

"Lexa-"

"Sorry," she apologized. "I've been a little steadier on my feet."

"I... noticed. What happened to you? You..."

"I know I look rough, it's a long story though and I really think we should get back on the road."

"Not until I get some answers. You're a wanted fugitive in two different countries and I'm not going to risk getting involved in your mess until I know exactly what I'm getting into."

"You would leave me here after you drove all this way?" she questioned skeptically.

"Yes. I would."

"That's where I think you're wrong. There are security cameras out here and if one curious security guard sees me on there, their next step is going to be finding out who I'm talking to."

"You planned this all, didn't you? You trying to force me into-"

"No. I thought I had everything planned out, but things fell through. I messed up, okay? I'll tell you everything on the way, just get in the car and get us out of here before the police show up!" she interrupted, her fear easily evident.

"Fine, but you'll tell me everything. And I mean _everything._"

Without comment, she ducked into the passenger seat.

A moment later Hawke rejoined her, starting the engine and directing them back toward the highway. One they were on their way without incident he broke the uncomfortable silence that had settled between them.

"You can start talking any time."

"What do you want to know?" she asked, rubbing her sore arm.

"Why you left, what you did, and why you look as bad as you do. And the truth about Nikita, who she is and why she's suddenly here."

"Fair enough." She sat in silence for another minute visibly trying to relax. "When we stop for gas again, would you go inside and see if they have an bandages?"

"For your arm?"

"Yeah. I think I broke it. Again."

"Again?"

"Well, I guess it probably wasn't healed yet from our last excursion, but it hasn't been bothering me much until lately."

"I'll look," he agreed.

"As far as the other goes, I was in Canada obviously, mostly Quebec City, doing a job."

"I thought you were supposed to be taking personal time off."

"You know me, String, it's not that simple."

"Then enlighten me."

"I was after someone who was of great importance to me. Things get messy and me being me, I got into trouble. Borrowing a couple cars didn't help things either. Since there was no way I could have legally crossed the border, I did it illegally. I was behind schedule, but otherwise I was doing fine until someone decided to run into me head on. Since yesterday night I've been hiding out in the woods waiting for you to get here and trying to avoid the cops."

"I understand the cops being after you for some stolen cars, but I think you're leaving something out," Hawke prompted. "What kind of importance was this person to you?"

"I killed someone, alright? Does that make you happy now that you know exactly what I've been up to, that you're ferrying around a murderer?"

"You murdered someone? A sniper kind of thing, or-"

"Yes, yes I killed them. Why does it matter how?"

"I don't know. I just don't see how you can do it. A job like you have, then at the end of the day pretending it never happened."

"Sometimes it's not quite so easy as you make it sound," Lexa answered quietly.

"I'll bet the kid doesn't even know either. She's yours, isn't she?"

"Who? Niki?"

"Unless there's someone else the rest of the world should be knowing about."

"No, yes, well sort of," she stammered, not succeeding in giving a clear answer. "She doesn't _exactly _ know what I do, but she has a pretty good idea. She's not my daughter, if that's what you're asking, but I am her legal guardian. Sort of."

"How sort of?"

"Let's leave it at guardian. I'm not sure if it was ever officially made legal. She does know that her real parents died in a car accident, but not that I cause it though.

"You killed her parents?" his disbelief couldn't have been more transparent. He'd had to live the majority of his life without his parents, only able to wish he could somehow bring them back while living with the guilt that he survived when they didn't; never he could he even briefly entertain the idea of hurting or killing them on purpose.

"It was an accident."

"A car accident," he retorted, " only evidently it wasn't such an accident after all."

"I didn't mean to kill them both."

"So it's better if you kill them off one at a time?"

"I was on an assignment to stop a international smuggling ring my father just happened to be in the middle of. If I had asked Michael probably could have assigned me elsewhere, but I had spent a lot of time and valuable resources getting in that deep and the FIRM pays me to do a job, not waste resources and then ask for sympathy. There was no reason why I couldn't do it."

"I still don't see how you could. He was your father."

"It was my job, that's how. I never did get along with him that well, but admittedly, it wasn't easy. I decided a car crash would be the best plan- less personal for me and it would look like an unfortunate accident."

"So what didn't go according to plan?"

"Everything went perfectly, probably some of my best work, except for one thing. My mother had died when I was three; intelligence failed to tell me he had remarried."


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER 6**

"Sometime while I had been gone he met a Russian woman, Katya, and married her. She happened to be in the car when they wrecked," she paused, caught by an unexpected wave of emotion, remembering the day all too vividly.

_She stepped out of the silver Mustang to admire her handiwork – a seven car pile up that blocked the entire highway, only she didn't have the usual sense of accomplishment. Usually she felt like she had done something for the greater good despite the fact it was often illegal, but now all she could see was the injury and death she had cause, mostly to innocent people. And it was all because she couldn't handle personally taking on her father._

_ Walking around the massive wreck, she looked like an innocent victim not badly injured, trying to see if there was anyone she could help, but that wasn't at all what she felt like._

_ There was continuous noise of groans and complaints filling the air as she walked by, continuing toward the blue Impala caught in the middle of it all. It was quickly obvious her plan had worked, albeit a little too well. The almost new car was now barely recognizable. A white Firebird had taken out most the front end and a black car T-boned them on the driver's side. Neither person inside moved. Tears welled up in her eyes as the realization finally hit her. She may have never been overwhelmingly fond of her father, but he was still her dad, and he had seen that she was adequately cared for no matter how badly she had acted toward him. What was worse, she had killed the woman beside him, probably just someone in the wrong place at the wrong time._

"I looked into the who the mysterious passenger was, which took a while since she wasn't yet an American citizen, her life goal evidently. Her papers came through the day after the crash. I felt so sick, I ruined peoples' lives for no good reason." She looked out the window as the trees on the outside seemed to race by, willing her mistakes to go away. "I really was for a while, took about two months off of work and I didn't leave my apartment the whole time except the buy groceries once. I don't remember exactly how or when I found out, although there's a lot I don't remember from those two months, but I found out she had a daughter, Nikita. She's a lot younger than me, but we had the same father and no one else too look out for either of us. She's my half-sister and my best shot and rectifying the mess I created, at least as much as I can."

"So why did you stay in the business then?"

"It's harder than it sounds to get out, you know that."

"But I did it."

"For a while. To a certain extent you haven't really escaped it."

"If whatever you did in Canada wasn't official business though, why did you go?"

"Making an old wrong right, or righter... that and, as you know, I'm a bit of an adrenaline junkie, I need the rush. They aren't real fond of letting fugitives adopt children either, but I can't loose her, String. Please don't let them take her away."

"I don't know how I could help you there. Michael would be the one to see there. Even then, there's only so much he can do; keeping you out of prison is going to be hard enough."

"They can't send me to prison, they don't have proof of anything, and I'm not stupid enough to confess to it."

"So you want me to let you get away with murder _and _keep the kid? I think you're asking too much. Talk to someone else."

"Hawke, you have to," she pleaded. "If your brother was still missing, you'd do anything to have him back. It's the same thing."

"It's not the same, I wasn't killing people."

"This matters to me, more than anything else right now."

"Exactly. Right now it might matter most, but what about tomorrow? What about what's best for her? You're gone halfway around the world the majority of the time."

"She's been fine this long."

"She's seven and you taught her how to wire explosives and leave guns all over the house! If child services took once step inside your apartment they'd take her away faster than you could ask for a second chance."

"That's where I need you. Nikita is used to the unusual... decorations... around. I can take care of her on my own and would do anything to keep her. _Legally _they won't think about anything other than the fact I have a few guns I shouldn't, and that I've been chased by the cops a couple times though."

"If I agreed to help, and I'm not saying I am, what do you expect me to do? I don't have the connections someone like Michael does, and quite frankly I'd be as much hindrance as help if they started asking questions, given out track record together."

"I have a plan," she answered vaguely.

"You going to share it, or do I have to read your mind too?"

"I still have a couple minor snags I'm working out."

"You could give me a general idea," he prodded. "We'll be back in a matter of hours and I don't think anyone – FIRM, cops, or child services – is going to wait long when they find out you're back in town."

"Alright," she acquiesced, trying to come up with the easiest way to get him to agree. She failed to come up with any brilliance though and decided not the waste any more time.

The jeep pulled into the service station and came to a stop in a parking space.

"Well?" Hawke asked as he pulled the key out of the ignition, "I'm waiting."

"I want you to adopt her," Lexa replied hastily. "I'll go pay for the gas."

"Wait, Lexa!" he called, but she was already out the door and heading for the store front. He sat in the car wondering if he could have completely misunderstood what she had said. How was him adopting Nikita going to solve her problems?


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER 7**

"Where's Hawke?" Archangel demanded, leaning wearily on his cane. "I need to speak with him."

"He ain't here," the owner of Santini Air replied coolly, "just like I told you before you drove over here."

"Dominic, I'm serious. I've spent the last week trying to make contact with a rogue agent then I get word Hawke has known where she is all along. I'm tired of dancing around the issue. Where is he?"

"I don't know."

"Don't lie to me!"

"Okay, he's somewhere between here and Canada, at least last I heard from him. Now you know as much as I do."

"Does he know where Lexa is?"

"Assuming she showed up."

"He flew all the way out there not knowing if she would even be there?" he asked incredulously.

"Actually he drove, left around midnight."

"He drove?"

"Yep."

"The more I find out, the less I believe it."

\A/

Despite his personal feeling that it was a terrible idea, Hawke had let Lexa drive the next leg of the trip home, too tired to worry how much over the speed limit she probably was. No matter how hard he tried to ignore the myriad of of questions still plaguing him long enough to get a few minutes of sleep, rest eluded him. Or maybe it was just that every time he was about to doze off Lexa would swing around the car in front of them and race off again, unless she was disapproving of their driving ability in which cases she usually slammed on the brakes right in front of them before speeding away.

Neither one of them had spoken since they left the gas station, but there were still plenty of unfinished issues to work through.

"Will you at least think about it?" Lexa asked, catching him off guard.

"Think about what?"

"Adopting Nikita."

"I... I don't see that working very well. The last thing I need is another kid to look after. I already need to do a better job with Le, and between charters at Santini Air and Airwolf missions I'm gone a lot myself. It's not a responsibility I think I can really take on. Besides that, you and I aren't exactly on the friendliest terms most of the time and I know you're going to want to see her."

"I'm not asking you to do the day to day care – I'll handle food, clothes, school supplies, everything. I just need you to take care of the legal matters. The only real problem would be papers that need a guardian's signature and visits by the social workers. I can forge the signature," she started until she saw the look he gave her, "or I could drop them off at Santini Air... You can use my apartment for the other too. I'll put... I'm not sure where I'll put them yet, but I'll stash things they might not deem 'appropriate' around the house elsewhere beforehand. All I need you to do is sign the dotted line."

"What if something happens to one of us? Neither one of our jobs is particularly low risk."

"If something happens to me so that I couldn't take care of her, I have a friend that would take over for me."

"What about me? Since I'm your clean record, you would have a problem."

"I guess I'd have to do the same thing I'd do if you don't help."

"Which is?"

"Take her and flee the country."

"You can't just keep running, Lexa. That's my biggest reservation to doing this for you. You never want to own up to your mistakes and take the consequences, always trying to just avoid the situation."

"Maybe it's my problem separating personal and job life; they always tell you to get out of those kind of situations, it's hard to suddenly start accepting punishment when you know you could get out of it."

"But for what you just did you deserve to go to jail. I can't send you there because I don't have any evidence against you, but I can't in good conscience let you get away with everything. She is family though and I admire your efforts to right old wrongs."

"So you'll help me?"

"I will think about it."

"You might want to think quickly because there's a roadblock ahead and I'd bet they're looking for us."

"If they catch us now I don't think you're going to have to worry about that clean record of mine."

"That just won't work. Hang on, we're getting past this thing."

\A/

"Marella?" Nikita asked, reappearing from the dark hallway again.

"Yes?"

"Do I have to go to school tomorrow?"

"I suppose you ought to go. What school am I taking you to?"

"I dunno."

"Haven't you gone to school already this year?"

"Yeah, but I didn't like it there. Mommy said I could go to a different school starting Monday."

"Where's your new school going to be?"

"I don't the name of it. She said it was far away and I would have to fly there but she would visit me as much as she could."

"I see. Well, how about this? You can stay with me tomorrow and hopefully we can get this whole thing sorted out so you can start Tuesday."

"Okay," she turned back toward the guest bedroom, but stopped after only a couple steps. "When is Mommy coming back?"

"I don't know," Marella answered uncertainly, "it might be a while."

"How come?"

Marella didn't answer immediately. It was obvious Nikita missed Lexa, but in reality she might never see her again. If half the rumors against her were true she could end up in prison for the rest of her life, or worse. Any way she looked at it, guardianship of Nikita wasn't likely.

"It's complicated."

"Why?"

"I don't know how to explain it to you. It has a lot to do with her job and where she's been for the last few days. There have been rumors about why she's been gone so lone and possibly going places she shouldn't have been, but I don't want to talk about it much until we get her back and hear her side of the story."

"Alright."


	8. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER 8**

"Great, now we have the police after us, Lexa, that wasn't really a help."

"At least we aren't being led away in hand cuffs," she retorted.

"Well we can't outrun them in this."

"Evasion isn't all about speed, although it helps and certainly makes things more interesting... In one of my recent episodes I had a Corvette but didn't top sixty until after I had lost them."

"Good to know, but I'd rather not be involved in the chase at all."

"I'll let you out if you want."

"You probably wouldn't stop before you threw me out, and I'd never see my jeep again."

"I'd slow down," Lexa returned, " but no promises on the returning condition of your vehicle; the police should get it back to you eventually though, if there's enough left to return."

"Somehow I don't find that particularly consoling."

"Suit yourself." She swung a hard right at the intersection heading for a usually quiet residential neighborhood. Three California Highway Patrol cars followed in pursuit, sirens blaring. Accelerating, Lexa directed them towards the woods behind the house at the end of the culdesac.

"Please tell me you're not about to do what I think you're going to do."

"Only if you're not thinking we're about to go off-roading through the woods."

"I'd like to end this with me in one piece."'

"If all goes well you will be."

"But if it doesn't..."

"Maybe a few cuts and bruises, perhaps a broken bone, or maybe there's a cliff with a six hundred foot drop on the other side of those trees and we'll both plunge to our deaths, how should I know? We'll find out when we get there."

"This, Hawke thought to himself, was exactly why he didn't like working with Lexa. She was reckless and she never thought anything through.

He pitched forward as the front wheels hit the curb, then back again as Lexa sped toward the trees. They swung around a large oak, nearly colliding with a smaller one in the process and ripping off a few smaller branches of the sapling to his left. Trees raced in a blur as Lexa would suddenly swerve to avoid a tree then be jarred back by a large rock or fallen branch. As abruptly as the chase had begun, Lexa slammed on the brakes just on the bank of a stream running through the heart of the cluster of trees.

"Looks like the end of the road to me."

"I think you passed that a while ago," Hawke remarked dryly.

"Alright, then I think it's time I high-tail if out of here, at least as fast as I can. If it's possible, I think I feel worse now than when that car actually hit me."

"How do you expect to make it the rest of the way back? _Borrow_ someone else's car?"

"I'll figure something out. Are you coming with me or going to wait until the police show up? You might be able to claim car-jacking, but I don't think I'd be able to get away with that considering they've been chasing me all the way from Quebec City.

He hesitated briefly before throwing off the seat belt and climbing out of the car. It probably wasn't a smart idea, but somewhere along the way he had decided to help her and there was no way he could back down now. Car-jacking wouldn't work and he knew it; he would have to come up with something a lot better than that before the police caught up or do the only other semi-logical thing he could – make a run for it with Lexa, hope they could travel the last few miles without the cops realizing it, and hope Michael could sort out the rest.

"So you do still have the guts it takes to run from the cops," Lexa teased, "I'm proud of you Stringfellow. For a minute I had my doubts, but you came through."

"I would like to keep a halfway decent record so I can keep my job and custody of Le. You can view it as complete selfishness if you like, as long as we get out of here clean."

"That's what I like to hear."

\A/

Paperwork. Considering how much he disliked the mundane details that accompanied the position he held, Michael Coldsmith-Briggs wondered exactly how he had gotten drawn into it in the first place. It wasn't something he enjoyed and often put it off as long as possible, but, for one, he was almost completely caught up. Too bad it wouldn't stay that way. His motivation for getting it finished was knowing Lexa Cole was still out there somewhere and that when she came back, whether on her own or in handcuffs, there would inevitably be questions to be answered, reports to be filed, and changes to be made. To make matters worse, it appeared Stringfellow Hawke was now somehow involved in this mess. How or why Hawke had gotten drawn in he didn't know, didn't really care, but it was the last thing he needed. While it was no longer a complete secret, Airwolf wasn't something that needed to be talked about much and typically the less said the better. No one know how to handle it quite like Hawke though, and with him potentially looking at prison time, matters were much more complicated. Other people could fly it, or could be trained to, but he doubted any of them would be the same. To some extent, he might be able to keep him out of jail, at least shorten the sentence, but he couldn't assure anything, and he knew the Committee would be after him about it. It was only a matter of time until everything fell apart.

"Sir," Lauren addressed as she entered the office, "the local police found Hawke's jeep abandoned in the woods behind a residential neighborhood ten miles away. Neither one was found in the area, but...

"But we all know what it looks like," he finished. "Thank you, Lauren."

"Is there anything else I can do sir, to help?"

"At this point, the wisest thing you can do it stay out of the whole disaster so you don't go down with it. Other than that, just try to keep the media out of the loop as much as possible."

\A/

"I have to give it to you, Lexa, I never would have thought it would work, but we're here."

"We aren't in yet," she retorted, "but luckily I know a hole in the security, and it leads right to Michael's office."

"Lead on then."

She directed toward the western end.

"You do realize that's the research and development end don't you? The area with _tighter _security."

"Yeah, I know. Just follow my footsteps exactly and we'll be fine. Or, if you prefer, you can walk in the front door and take your chances with security there. They might let you by, or they might escort you straight to a holding cell."

"Fine, I get it."

"Good," she smirked, self-satisfied. "Then let's go."

She led around the building to a service entrance with a double lock and password recognition software. "In time I could pick the lock, but the password is changed daily. Since I haven't been in town for two weeks I really have no idea what it is. Fortunately for us, the service staff is lazy and usually leaves it open."

As if to prove her point, a middle-aged man carrying a mop, bucket, and a pack of cigarettes came out, leaving the door ajar. He dropped the bucket, sloshing water all over the ground, some of it inside the doorway, and let the mop handle clank against the building as he ambled leisurely away while rummaging his pockets for his lighter.

"He'll be gone for a while, so we can slip in unnoticed." Lexa led the way, stepping over the puddle and continuing up a steep staircase that ended somewhere in the halls of the research center above. "Be careful if you step through the water. These steps get slippery and it's embarrassing enough to fall on your butt, not to mention painful as you slide down the stairs, and I'm _not_ going to come back down there and drag you up here."

"I don't doubt you for a minute."

"Shh."

"You can complain about wet stairs and me falling down them, I can at least-"

"Shh," she interrupted, this time more forcefully. "We're coming up on the hallway, and we don't want them to hear us. And, since I haven't developed x-ray vision yet, the only way we have of telling if there's anyone on the other side of the door is by listening to them."

"Yeah, yeah. I get it. Let's just get this done with. The sooner we can get this mess cleaned up the better, for both of us."

\A/

Gathering up the files on his desk, Michael stacked them into a briefcase to take home with him for further examination when he inevitably couldn't sleep. He obviously had nothing better to do.

He was just about to grab his cane and head out when the office door swung open, again. Irritated, he turned to see who the latest violator of his privacy was.

Lexa Cole and Stringfellow Hawke quickly entered then shut the door behind them.

"Good to see you Michael," Lexa greeted. "You're not leaving already are you? I was hoping you could help clear up a couple things for me."


	9. Chapter 9

**CHAPTER 9**

"Clear up" a few matters was an extreme understatement Michael soon realized as he listened to Lexa and Hawke's account of what had happened in the last week. Even with some hefty bribes and string pulling he wasn't sure he could make it all go away, yet Lexa talked like it was like they were a day late paying a bill or had simply stayed out a little after curfew. The calm she relayed several car thefts, high speed police chases, and a murder with was surreal he just couldn't believe it. But yet, somehow, he did.

Normal people didn't have these problems, even most of his agent didn't. But neither Hawke nor Lexa could ever be accused of settling with the problems of "normal" people. They both had a way of finding trouble, or maybe it was trouble who found them, but never of letting things get boring.

"I'm not sure you two understand exactly how much trouble you're in. Honestly, I'm not sure how you got in without security locking down the entire building."

"They don't know we're here," Lexa supplied.

Great, he though briefly, not only did he have fugitives in his office, but security was liable to barge in any minute and arrest him for aiding and abetting too. Not that he could truthfully say he wasn't...

"We realize the trouble we're in, that's why we're here. No one else knows we're back yet."

"And you should keep it that way."

"I have to tell Dom and-"

"No, you don't," Michael interrupted. "You don't have to tell Dom, Cait, your brother, Le, not even your dog. The fewer people that know the better, the less likely something is to get out."

"Are you saying you don't trust them now?"Hawke fumed.

"That's not at all what I"m saying, and they'll be the first to know once we have this sorted out, but every person that knows is a liability, and with the track record you tow have recently acquired you already have more than enough problems." He sighed, setting his cane down. There wasn't going to be any early evening for him tonight. "Why don't you two go to the safe-house and get cleaned up. I'll start with finding out what charges have been filed against you, then worry about coming up with alibis and excuses."

\A/

"I call the bed," Lexa claimed after they had taken only a single step into the building.

"You don't even know that there is one,"Hawke pointed out cynically, "and if there is one I should get it."

"I _do _know there is one, and why should _you_ get it? Haven't you ever heard of giving the lady the choice, or you could act like you cared I haven't had a decent place to sleep in two weeks.

"_I _was the one who had to come pick you up and got dragged into this mess. You chose it of your own free will. Why are you so knowledgeable on the place anyway? I thought it was supposed to be a 'secret' and you might as well have left in the middle of Michael's directions."

"I used it for a while. I've known about it so long I don't even remember how I found out about it, but it's been useful a couple times."

"You haven't invited any other people over have you? Someone that could possibly pose a threat to either of us?"

"Stringfellow, you underestimate me. Despite your distrust in my ability, I actually am very good at my job."

"That's why we're hiding here, hoping Archangel can fix everything for us, right?"

"I'm a field agent. Politics aren't job."

"And obviously neither is following the law."

"Are you going to get a shower or just critique everything I do? Fine, if it will make you happy you can have the bed, you can have the whole damn place if you want! I don't care anymore. I'll just take Nikita and leave!" She stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind her.

As much as he didn't want to, he followed her out. "Lexa, wait."

"What?" she demanded. "Did you have something else to critisize or did you just want to kick me out yourself?"

"Neither. I honestly can't tell you why, but I want to help. That's why I drove all the way to the border to pick you up."

"Well you've sure done a fine job. I think you've helped out about as much as I can stand now though, and I'd appreciate if you just let me leave now. I'll figure out a way out of the country where Nikita and I can have a fresh start, and stay out of your life for good."

"Don't, Lexa. It won't help anyone; it'll only cause more problems."

"I'm not sure there are a lot more problems for me to have," she retorted. "I'm already a fugitive in two countries, wanted for several grand theft autos, and to top it off a murderer if only they could prove it. I have no job history I can account for, and my job skills include assassination and bomb making. In other words, I have enough problems. If I just show up in some third world country somewhere no one will questions it and I can do whatever I please."

"And you're going to be happy with that?" Hawke asked skeptically. "You like to make a big splash, the underground thing isn't going to work for you. And what about Nikita? From what I've heard she's quite smart. It'd be a shame to let that go to waste with poor education and a lack of opportunity."

"What do you want me to do? You aren't exactly helping things." She sat on the porch railing, balancing on the edge. "If I stay I may never see her again and you won't agree to take her."

"I said I would _think _about it."

"Even if you agreed, it would be a lot harder now that you're a suspect in the same mess I am." She sighed, staying quiet for several minutes before continuing. "I really messed this one up for all of us. It's as simple as that."

"Now if only fixing it was that simple."

"It'd be nice," she agreed, sliding back down and returning inside. "Do you supposed there's any decent pain medicine here"

"What?"

"I had a broken arm _before _ we had to write reports of everything, now I probably have carpal tunnel too and it's killing me."

Way to change the subject – that was Lexa for you.

\A/

_"I can be back by tomorrow night and everything will be back to normal..."_

So why wasn't he back and why weren't things back to normal? Dominic Santini wondered. He had figured on String returning the previous night, but it was a day later and still no news had him worried. In addition, Archangel had been calling him almost constantly throughout the day, hoping for some new tidbit of information. At least he had been. After about seven thirty the calls had abruptly ceased. At first he was happy he wasn't going to have to disconnect the phone in order to get a few hours sleep, but now he had to wonder if courtesy was the only thing involved. Maybe he had found something out, not that he would necessarily share if he had. Or perhaps he had simply gone home for the night hoping the next day would bring the answers they all sought.

It wouldn't hurt anything to call and find out, he decided, so he say down again at the desk and dialed the number that had recently become all too familiar.


	10. Chapter 10

**CHAPTER 10**

"What's up with Hawke?" Caitlin queried as she lugged the toolbox toward the waiting Jet Ranger. "I thought he was supposed to be here helping me with this stuff, but it's like he disappeared off the face of the earth."

"I don't know."

"Well somebody ought to. Who knows what he could get himself into without the rest of us?" she added teasingly. "It would be nice if he at least mention he was going to be gone before he just vanished."

"He did, but he should be back by now."

"When did I miss this? I never heard anything about him leaving. Where did he go?"

"Supposedly to somewhere near the Canadian border to pick up Lexa."

"Where does Lexa fit into this?"

"She's at the center of a very big mess."

"What can we do to help?"

"I called last night to see if Michael had anything new, but I got no answer. I guess the first step should be finding out where he is now."

He picked up the phone and dialed Knightsbridge and waited for someone to answer. After several rings Samantha picked up only to tell him that Michael was out."

"I need to speak with him now."

"He isn't here, Mr. Santini, he said he had some personal business that he needed to attend to, that's all."

"When will he be back?"

"I don't know. He didn't say where he was going, why, or when he would be back – now you know everything I know."

Disgruntled, he hung up the phone. He still had no idea where String was or what kind of trouble he could be in.

\A/

**About a Week Later**

"He isn't seeing anyone," the white-clad assistant replied coolly.

"Then he needs to make an exception. I've wasted the last week hearing he's unavailable and working on personal business. Well I'm tired of it. I want to talk to him now, and I'm not leaving until I do.

"Please calm down, sir," she requested patiently. "I don't want to have to call security."

"I'll calm down when someone tells me what the hell is going on! My boy drives off to who knows where to pick up _your _agent and is never seen again. To make things more suspicious, Archangel has been in a meeting, unavailable, or on personal business constantly for the last week and half. It's kind of hard to believe there isn't anything going on."

"Whether there is or not, I can't let you in."

The calm, coolness, she replied with was worse than the denial. No one seemed to care at all.

His composure gone, he no longer cared that he was about to get thrown out of the building, not that he would be missing anything. They would be lucky if he didn't decided to bring a certain helicopter back with him to show them he was serious. He was ready to launch at anyone who might get in his way when out of nowhere String and Lexa came walking down the corridor as if nothing had happened.

"String!"

"Wait, I-"

Dom paid no attention.

He wrapped the younger man in a bear hug, so grateful to see him again after wondering what had happened to him for nearly two weeks. He pulled away a moment later when he realized the hug wasn't being returned quite the way he had anticipated.

"What's wrong?"

"I was trying not to get ink all over your shirt," he answered, showing his ink covered fingers. "I failed."

Looking down at the black smears all over the front of his new white shirt, he couldn't help but let out a hearty laugh. He was so excited about seeing String again, and all String thought about was messing up his shirt.

"Where have you been? What happened?"

"We were getting out finger prints taken to compare with those found on the stolen vehicles."

"I meant the last week and a half. I was expecting you to be back the next day and you just disappeared off the face of the earth. You've had us all worried sick something terrible had happened."

"Sorry."

Sorry? That was it? Not even an explanation as to why he was sorry? He tried to give him some slack, knowing whatever it was must have been quite an ordeal. Whatever it was seemed to have quite and effect on him. He seemed out of it and spacy, his moves almost robotic.

"What happened?"

"A lot evidently. I'd really rather not go over all of it again right now."

Not very helpful.

"When do you get to come home?"

He shrugged. " Ask Michael, maybe he'll know."

"You can't decide for yourself?"

"I'm exhausted and a bed anywhere sounds good right now. Michael has been trying to sort through things for us and he said he would let us know when we could go home."

"Can I speak with him then?"

"Sure."

"You're positive? I haven't been able to get a hold of him the entire time you've been gone."

"Yeah, just walk into his office. Tell him I'm finished and heading back to the safehouse too. Hopefully I'll be able to come home soon."

With that said, he turned around and disappeared down the hallway again.

\A/

"What did you do to him?"

"What do you mean 'do to him?' I haven't done anything," Michael answered defensively. "He got into this mess on his own."

"He's a zombie."

"I haven't even seen him more than a couple of times. He's been at the safehouse with Lexa most of the time waiting on this to blow over."

"That's your problem! He can hardly stand her, and you've got him pinned up with her for weeks at a time."

"I don't have anywhere else to put him, okay? I'm working as fast as I can, but these things take time."

"When can he leave?"

"He'd be lucky enough to get out without prison time at all."

"When?"

"I should be finished by tomorrow, that's the best I can do."

"Fine. I"ll be here tomorrow afternoon to pick him up," Dom agreed finally. "And you better hope going home and a break from Lexa is all he needs."

\A/

**At the Safe House**

"You know I hear this is about over," Lexa said, " for you at least."

"Is that supposed to make me feels sorry for you?" Hawke returned cynically.

"No. It is my fault, that much I'll admit."

"But you won't admit what you did that was your fault so we would both be out of here."

"And I'd be in jail."

"You'd look good in an orange jumpsuit," he teased.

"How about you though? You'd probably end up right there next to me as an accomplice, and I hear the silent types don't make very many friends in prison."

"I've been through worse."

"Right," She stared at an imaginary speck on the wall for a minute before continuing. "Hawke, I'm sorry you got so... involved... in this. I don't know how it got so out of hand; I thought I had it better thought out. I have to know if you've given my idea any more thought though."

"What idea?"

"Nikita."

"What is this? You apologize then immediately ask for a favor, it can't work like that."

"I just don't want her to suffer any more for my mistakes."

"Then why did you do it?"

"I told you. I had to right some old wrongs."

"By doing more wrongs?"

"I can't explain it, I just had to do it. What do you care anyway? Tomorrow you can get back to your life. If you get back early enough, you can even watch me get hauled off to jail on national tv. For all the trouble I've been through I ought to at least get that much."

"Not holding much for an all-clear from Michael, I take it?"

"If I got the opportunity I'd take it and run, but even without a murder charge, they still have me for one heck of a speeding ticket, not to mention the three hours it took them to give up on the chase."

"That was you?"

She smiled. "It was fun too. Driving a Corvette is most any time you get to put it through its paces though. What I think I'll miss the most in prison though, other than Nikita of course, is my motorcycle."

"More than the Corvette?"

"It was borrowed anyway, but yeah. Cars just take up to much room, you know? With the bike I can weave in and out of traffic all I want; the car only becomes more useful when you have open roads to use it on."

"I'm not sure why exactly, but I hope you manage alright."

"Thanks. I don't figure how the prison thing is going to work for me though. I guess I never really figured they would catch up with me. I'm not sure I can do it."

"You've been through worse. How long do you think they'd give you anyway?"

"Even with Michael's help it'll be a few years at least," Lexa answered. "Too long for my taste."


	11. Chapter 11

**CHAPTER 11 **

Dominic Santini pulled up to the FIRM building in the jeep, Caitlin in the passenger's seat. Without a single word being exchanged until he was inside, Hawke climbed into the backseat and buckled his seat belt then uttered a weary thank you.

Then that all sat in an awkward silence as they headed back toward Santini Air. He had been 'officially' cleared by the authorities, but somehow it didn't feel like he was so innocent. Lexa was getting what she deserved, at least somewhat, but he had still helped her. Kind of. He actually hadn't done anything but provide transportation from the border back to Los Angeles; the actual law breaking had all been her. Yet he still felt guilty. The biggest problem was that he didn't feel as guilty for the 'lesser' wrong; he felt guilty for the wrong he didn't commit. Nikita didn't do anything, but she was still stuck in the middle. First she lost her parents, now her sister, both through no fault of her own. He had entertained Lexa's idea briefly, despite the trouble he could be in if someone found out, but finally decided it was in everyone's best interest that he didn't. He was gone on missions on a regular basis and it was hard enough at times to make sure Le was adequately cared for. At times he still wondered if it had been the right decision, but if he had it to do over again he knew it would be the same. Should he have chosen differently with Nikita? He wondered. Maybe she was better off without Lexa. Or maybe the decision had been more self-centered that he thought – the idea of having to work with Lexa on a regular basis not appealing much. Not to mention the duties he would have for however long Lexa was gone, which could be years.

It didn't much matter now though. The decisions were made, for better or for worse.

"We're here," Dom announced, stopping in an empty parking space. "Should I take you out to the cabin, or are you going to stick around for a while?"

"I think I'll head to the cabin and get a good night's sleep, but you don't have to come. I just have a couple things I need to pick up before I leave."

"Okay," he agreed, although a bit disappointed. He knew that no matter how much he wanted to know String would talk about it when he was ready and not a minute before.

"Will you be back tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I should be. I'll let you know if anything changes."

He gathered up a few personal items and turned to leave, catching only the tail end of a news report as he did so. It was enough though.

_"… secure prisoner transport gone bad. The prisoner, known as Lexa Cole broke out of her restraints and disappeared into the crowd before she could be apprehended. If you have seen her please alert the local authorities, she is thought to be armed and dangerous..."_


End file.
